Punishment
by blood and rain
Summary: Grell has always had slight issues following the rules. After his latest bout of improper Shinigami behavior, William calls him into his office for a lesson in obedience. One-shot.


**AN:** Please note that this one-shot was totally for fun, so don't take it too seriously. Also, I would like to humbly thank Effervescent-Kei-Chan for BETA-ing. (And to guiltily admit that I stole the summary from her…)

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Kuroshitsuji, and so shall never profit from it. Promise.

---

"Grell, do you know why you're here?"

William's voice was silky smooth, the tone commanding my whole attention, and therefore causing a self-destructive disobedient streak to force my eyes away from him, as I made a point of ignoring him. The bastard knew that I hated to be bossed around, (with the exception of Sebas-chan, of course) and I glared, forever the epitome of immaturity, loathing the formal, yet somehow smug twist to his lips.

We were currently in his office: a lavish, expansive room that spoke volumes to me regarding the personality he professed not to have, which he'd hidden behind a carefully crafted wall of stoicism and an excessive appraisement for following the rules. He was sat behind his broad, mahogany desk, allowing the full length widows behind him to let the dying rays of the setting sun cling lethargically to him, and illumine his immaculate suit and flawless skin, but casting a shadow over his eyes.

He looked fucking stunning really, for a highly repressed, tightly wound shinigami. I was trying hard to resist the urge to hit on him, when I realised that not only was he looking at me, clearly expecting an answer, but my ploy to pretend he didn't exist had failed, and my eyes had been fixed on him for quite a while. And damn did he look mad.

That might be the understatement of the century, actually. Sitting impassively, every small twitch seemed certain of its purpose, like a cat, taking its time to toy with a bird once he'd reduced its wings to mere bloody stumps. He'd probably tear me limb from limb too, and what's more, he'd do it by the book. Trust William to always find some clause or loophole in the law that allowed him to legally stick somebody inside an iron maiden. I sighed. Out of all maidens, that was the one I wanted to be inside of the least. By a very small margin though.

And for what? William clearly knew, else he wouldn't be radiating such a profoundly malignant aura. We in the death business had been having a slow week, and all I'd done had been to borrow my modified death-scythe in an attempt to remedy that teeny issue. I don't see what the big deal was: I'd never claimed to be a saint, and there were probably plagues somewhere with a higher death toll. Well, definitely the black plague. I couldn't resist a sly smile.

"…with utter disregard for- are you_ smiling_?"

Uh-oh. Will had been speaking. Apparently, I'd just saved the Undertaker the trouble of digging my own grave. My brain was screaming at me to run when he crossed the room, and for a moment, the light glinted off his glasses as he fixed me with a hard look.

"Something needs to be done, so that you'll understand that actions have consequences."

The soft click of the door locking sounded impossibly loud to me. I could do nothing but stare I'll admit, stupidly, as he drew the red velvet drapes to shut out the half-lit evening, leaving the room bathed in the tenuous glow of two five-candle candelabras. A thousand protestations grew and died in my throat as I tried to find the correct words to grovel and beg to be allowed to leave with only insignificant flesh wounds. I'd never seen him look so serious, and when you're dealing with William, that's saying something.

Long, deft fingers worked to loosen his tie, holding my gaze the entire time, and my stomach did a somersault. This would be extremely arousing if I wasn't about to die. In fact, even with death as a looming prospect, it wasn't half bad. He came closer, and I began to tremble, finally realizing that his eyes held no real murderous intent. Sure, the annoyed desire to maim me was still there, but when wasn't it? What captivated my attention was what appeared to be a hungry interest that shone through despite his best efforts to control it.

Gently, stroking the side of my face, I felt the silk of the tie he was holding slip around me. I barely noticed when he removed my glasses. The last thing I saw was his self-satisfied, somewhat mean smile fixing that makeshift blindfold over my eyes.

---

Grell's lower lip was quivering slightly, his head thrown back, sending tousled crimson tresses cascading around neck. He was breathing heavily, obviously trying to conceal his apparent excitement. My own composure had been slipping, which was what had prompted me to cover his eyes. If I couldn't at least seem to keep control, I really had no hopes gaining any sort of dominance over him. And once again, I had to remind myself that this really was all about control and obedience.

In retrospect, the blindfold made things both easier and harder, if you'll pardon the lame pun. Black silk accentuated his perfect complexion, which seemed to be crafted for all its faultless beauty. Twice he reached for it, his hand hovering over his face hesitantly, and twice he thought better of it. It seemed that somewhere within the core of his being, he'd registered the fact that he wouldn't get out of here alive if he displeased me. Oddly perceptive, for his usually egocentric nature. I smiled, safe within the knowledge that he couldn't see me do so, and decided it was time to put an end to any sort of tentative escape he might try.

He jumped at my touch as I unfastened the red cravat around his neck, but remained otherwise silent. Uncharacteristically petty, I wanted a more extreme reaction. And I got it, by placing a delicate hand on his shirt collar and suddenly tugging violently, the force of it enough to tear the fabric and leave him splayed clumsily on the floor.

"What the hell, William-!" He'd reached for the blindfold, but I was faster. Straddling him, I quickly pinned both his arms behind his back, tying them with his own cravat, tightly enough for the fabric to bite into his skin. We were both breathing heavily, though he from the effort of resisting, and me from deep excitement of seeing him lay prostrate before me. Perhaps I loved him. I certainly loved to fuck him up.

---

That first touch had singed my skin with pleasure. Deprived of sight, and with William as taciturn as ever, I could do nothing but focus on the feel of his fingers as they lightly brushed my collarbone. I was never good at behaving myself, and the somewhat chaste grazes of his skin against mine were maddening. It was hard to believe that such simple gestures could hold such influence over the erection I was currently sporting. I kind of hoped he hadn't noticed it. I didn't want him thinking I was an easy lay.

He'd suddenly grabbed my shirt and slammed me against the floor, hard enough to momentarily stun me as my head made a sickening crack when it collided with the floorboards. Now, this was entirely different, though not unwelcome. A token protest had Will on top of me, restraining my arms. I fought him, because I knew that's what he wanted from me, each struggle pushing me a bit further over the edge. If William didn't do something soon, I was going to have to resort to some humiliating methods to get what I wanted.

He shifted slightly, a movement which allowed him to take off the rest of my clothes with practised ease. He was a little too good at this, which momentarily sent sparks of suspicious jealousy coursing through me. It was one thing to find out that your boss is a closet sadist, but quite another to wonder where, and more specifically _from whom_ he'd acquired that impressive array of skills.

The floor was cold, but the heat from his still-clothed erection was pressing deliciously against my thigh, so that I couldn't resist arching up against him, allowing a thoroughly frustrated groan to part the silence when I couldn't get the angle I needed. William pulled back, and there was a small incredulous staccato to his voice, "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"What? Me? I swear I'm not- wait, come back!" Despite my magnificent acting skills, I felt the pressure of his weight lifting, and heard the shuffling of his feet cross the room. Screw subtlety. With my hands tightly fastened behind my back, I could do nothing to relieve my jutting erection, and I writhed uncomfortably.

---

"William… Wi…lliam. _Will please…_"

His soft moaning of my name nearly made me lose my mind and ditch all my carefully laid out plans. I wanted to just fuck him senseless, there and then. It was hard enough to make it all the way across the room with certain parts of my anatomy demanding I get back there, immediately. But I take pride in my self control.

I stumbled over to my desk, thumbing my way through a silver key ring until I came to the small metallic key that fit the small lock of the bottom drawer. My hands were shaking as I turned the key, and hastily selected an item.

Grell's whimpering was unbearable, his hair dishevelled, spilling over my floor like the bloodstains that seemed to follow wherever he went. I think I was beginning to see the appeal of his entrancement with the colour.

Taking a deep breath, I made my way back to him.

---

"Do you know what this is?" Something was lifting my chin. Long, flexible, with a hard leather tip. No-brainer, but I wanted to keep William's attention, so that he wouldn't leave again. Plus, I wanted to savour every touch. Sadly my pride had been shattered long ago. If William wanted to play dirty, then so be it. As the object traced my jaw line, a soft inclination of my head allowed me to take a long, deliberate lick across its length.

"Riding… ahh, …riding crop."

I was pulled up to my knees, and before I'd finished speaking, a rain of blows had begun to raise welts and bruises all over the top of my thighs and lower back. I let my head drop, my hair shielding my expression, and soft groans were drawn from my willing lips. Overcome by an avid frisson, every stroke went straight to my dick. The white hot pleasure-pain left my skin incredibly sensitive, making the cool air of the room appear to brush over it with tangible, yet feather-light soft caresses.

I think I screamed when William's mouth traced a mark by my hip that had broken the skin.

I couldn't take it anymore. I floundered blindly, my arms useless, finding his legs and working my way upwards until my nose met much-too-tight fabric. He stiffened as between shameless murmurings, I pressed my mouth against him, trying awkwardly to unzip his trousers. His soft hiss as I succeeded was far more satisfying than any noise I'd ever heard before, and I revelled in sensation as his stiff member pressed against my mouth.

A pause.

"Grell?" Anger was back in the demanding intonation of his voice. I kept my mouth firmly shut, and pushed him back, moving to settle myself squarely on his lap. Grinding down against him, I spoke, rather proud that my voice only cracked twice. "Please… …inside…"

He hesitated. I could tell it was because he wanted this to be a punishment. Having me suck him off would deny me release while taking care of his, and so, before his sexed up brain could put two and two together and come up with that option, I slammed myself down on him. Hard. He screamed, caught by surprise, and I, who _had_ been expecting it managed to only bite my lip, drawing a slim trail of blood. There'd been no preparation, and I felt the agony of my insides tearing. Blood wasn't a great lubricant, but it was better than nothing. I think.

For a second, neither of us moved. Then the blindfold was brusquely dragged from my eyes, and my arms were freed. There were raw marks on my wrists from rope burn. William was livid. His face, contorted in rage, showed more expression than I've ever seen on him.

"Idiot!"

My eyes closed instinctively, but the slap never came. Instead, I felt him start to lift me off him, impossibly gently, his hands on my bruised hips. I didn't want the distance. Unbearable pain had not been enough to rid me of that troublesome erection, so I pressed myself closer, clamping my thighs around him. "Will, don't."

He was no self-sacrificing martyr, and so didn't take much coaxing, but the worry never left his eyes. Finally taking me in hand, and buried deep inside me, I stood high above a precipice of ecstasy, and let me tell you, the fall into sin was never sweeter. Afterwards, he spoke, but his words seemed hollow, as if he didn't mean them.

"I take it you've learned your lesson?"

"Who knows, I might re-offend," before he could do anything, I leaned over and dropped a light kiss on his nose. "So… Same time tomorrow?"

---

As Grell had stated, that week had been uneventful for all the shinigami. And same as many others, the Undertaker had had taken it upon himself to relieve the consequent boredom. Lucky for him, he was easily amused.

Crouching in a corner of the immense library, he giggled softly as he raised the pink quill to his lip thoughtfully, before finishing a sentence in spidery cursive, and his smile widened, just a little: '_"Same time tomorrow?" Grell shoots a lascivious look at William, whose only acknowledgement of him is a sigh, and limps towards his rather tattered clothes…_'

After a while, when he was happy with it, he removed the bookmark, and let life resume its crooked course.


End file.
